


Stoned Blue

by Nununununu



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Affection, Don't copy to another site, Drunkenness, Multi, Sex Pollen, Tickling, implied future sex, possible future incest, smuggling gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23479234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: ‘Sex Pollen For Emergencies’ is written on the container in a wobbling scrawl.
Relationships: Chewbacca/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Han Solo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: Robot Rainbow 2020





	Stoned Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indigo_inks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_inks/gifts).



> Up to the reader whether this is set at a nebulous point pre-canon or in a canon-divergent AU where post-Kylo Ben is redeemed and off on smuggling adventures with Han and Chewie.
> 
> Thanks for the prompts, blue_ringed_octopus! It was fun to write this incarnation of Ben :)

Ben can’t stop laughing. Chewie’s got him in a headlock, growling happily as he tussles Ben’s dark hair, Ben shoving and thrashing against him just enough to churn up the verdant plant life around them all that much more, and certainly not in the attempt to escape.

“Hey!” Han stumbles up into the garden from the basement he’s been investigating beneath the botanist’s cluttered mess of a domed little house. Ben stops his wriggling to watch his old man weave his way towards the greenhouse, waving something triumphantly, “Hey, look what I found!”

Strong arms still around Ben, Chewie expresses his profound doubt that Han has located the illicit goods they were in search of.

“Yeah,” Ben eyeballs his father as Han nearly pitches face first into a patch of giant nettles. His dad looks way too out of it for that. 

It had seemed apparent even before they landed that something had gone wrong in the time between the present and back when Han had made the deal – the greenhouse was spilling over with fast growing plants, the garden going wild, the dwelling filled with jars of stinking rooty things. Having agreed to separate in search of both the botanist and the contraband they’d been hired to transport – or anything else with potential, come to that, given they’d only been paid half in advance – Ben had found himself investigating the greenhouse, Chewie wandering in from outside to report no sign of the goods – or the botanist’s fate.

Perhaps the plants had eaten them. Ben’s sleeve had brushed at the heavy head of a huge azure flower as he turned to suggest this, knocking loose a thick cloud of pollen, and the next thing he knew, Chewie had been barrelling towards him.

Not to attack.

Ben had let himself be bowled over into the greenery, while furry paws sought out every ticklish spot Chewie had discovered since his childhood, and had buried his own fingers into fur to return the favour as best he could.

They’d been laughing so hard Chewie nearly couldn’t hold himself up and Ben’s eyes were streaming, his knees gone weak, neither able to explain their sudden giddiness. Something about the pollen?

“I’m all right!” Han is plucking himself out of the nettles, unharmed in a way that proves his old luck is still with him, only to stagger once he’s up on two feet, “Chewie, Ben, look at this!”

“Do we have to,” Knowing his dad, it’s probably something Han really shouldn’t have touched. Then again Ben hasn’t much of a high ground here, “What is it?”

Untangling himself from Chewie, he goes to catch his old man’s elbow, while the wookie plucks the receptacle from Han’s hand to peer and murmur at it.

“No, I didn’t eat any,” Han’s scoffing at his old friend, even as he leans a bit too heavily on Ben, awarding his son’s shoulder a distracted yet appreciative pat, “Botan- Botanist has a distillery down in the basement. Thought I should – should try out some of the liquor. Just in case.”

Ben gives him a look, “In case it's poisonous? If it is, you're probably already dead.”

“In case we can sell it!” Han rolls his eyes.

“Unless you drink it all first,” Ben makes plans to sneak some for himself and Chewie before his dad hawks whatever’s left. Maybe some of the pollen he brushed up against too – there's a promise of decent entertainment in witnessing his father ambushed by a wookie tickle attack.

“No, I’m not planning on selling this as well,” Han’s seeking to assure Chewie in the earnest tone he uses when he means the exact opposite, so Ben tugs at Chewie’s paw so he can see this other find of his dad’s.

‘Sex Pollen For Emergencies’ is written on the container in a wobbling scrawl, presumably by the botanist.

“For – emergencies?” Ben’s eyebrows disappear beneath the dark locks of his hair, they rise so much. He can’t help but snort.

“Emer-emergency sex,” Han seems to find his scepticism hilarious, “Happens more often than you might think. There’s a whole lot more of the stuff down in that basement.”

Removing the container decisively from Ben’s hand, Chewie pops the lid open and snuffles at the contents, howls a bit as if undecided –

And sneezes. Returns the container to Ben with a harrumph.

“ _Expired?_ ” Han sags, descending into disappointed muttering, before perking up again a moment later, shrugging them off in order to meander deeper in the greenhouse, “Maybe the other tubs will still work,” He observes as he goes, “Sell them off real quick and no one will know either way until it’s too late, right?”

“Yeah probably,” Glancing at the dried out blue-grey dust inside the container, Ben can’t help but then consider the large azure flower and the countless cut stalks next to it.

The flower Han is now poking at, starting to snicker depite his complaints when pollen scatters over his hand.

Taking a breath in, Ben licks his lips, tasting the substance still lingering on his own skin, and tells himself the increasingly tingling feeling he’s been experiencing down in his crotch is just a coincidence.

Something tells him it’s really not.

“Um, Chewie,” Shooting a look up at the wookie, Ben finds him grumbling as if struck by a similar theory, “Do you think the pollen might have a – uh, delayed aphrodisiac effect if it’s not fully ready to be harvested yet?”

The way Chewie shifts and yowls his agreement next to him implies they might be about to find out.


End file.
